In an exclusive interview with the Budapest Business Journal, Geszti reflects on three decades of artistic reinvention.
BBJ: You rose to national prominence with the group Rapülők in the early ’90s. How do you recall that period of your life?
Péter Geszti: It was like the long summer of my adolescence. Even though I wrapped it up in my 30s, it lasted just two years. It coincided with the regime change in Hungary, and in a way, Rapülők was part of my transformation. Before that, I had been writing lyrics for Első Emelet since 1983. But when that scene started to fade, I was already hosting radio and TV shows and genuinely fascinated by showbiz.
By the time Rapülők came along, I had finally found my voice as a lyricist. What made it really powerful was that I performed my lyrics for the first time. The character singing was the person who wrote the words. Everything felt very optimistic, free, and playful. It was a game without consequences, full of laughter with my two bandmates, Gábor Szentmihályi and Gabi Berkes, both of whom were also part of Első Emelet.
We were still young enough to catch the zeitgeist. That’s what pop music and fashion are about, capturing the spirit of the times. And when you’re in your 20s, it’s easier to feel that pulse. So yeah, it was like the most beautiful, longest summer of adolescence, even if we were already working professionally and understood how to deliver on deadlines, partly because all three of us had been working in advertising. But the curiosity and the reckless creativity of that time […] were just baked into everything we did.
BBJ: What inspired the creation of Jazz+Az, and what impact did it have on Hungarian pop music?
PG: I wanted to perform on stage with László Dés. He had just released his singer-songwriter album in the late ’80s, featuring lyrics by Géza Bereményi, and I was obsessed with it. After Rapülők sold out the Budapest Sports Arena four times, I wondered: “What’s next? Where do you go from here?”
Eventually, I realized it’s not about going higher; it’s about climbing down from the tower you built and starting something new. So, when Dés asked me to write lyrics for “The Jungle Book” musical, I knew I was being handed a golden opportunity. He was from a completely different musical universe than mine, and I learned a lot from him. He became something of a mentor to this day.
After “The Jungle Book,” I told him, “Let’s form a band. You’ll be the jazz; I’ll be the undefinable pop-cultural entity.” That’s how Jazz+Az came to be. It gained popularity when Hungarian mainstream radio was flooded with cheap, electro-based commercial music. We did the opposite: three female singers, one guy (me), complex arrangements, live instruments, almost like musical theater. Everything was performed live, and the band was 14 musicians strong. It was expensive to produce, but we brought a unique blend of jazz, funk, and thoughtful lyrics to the stage. Even Dóri Behumi, one of the singers, later described Jazz+Az as a luxury product. And to this day, several musicians from that core group still play with me. That continuity means a lot.
BBJ: You’ve worked across music, advertising, film, and television. How do you manage to juggle so many creative disciplines?
PG: When, like me, you’re not particularly specialized in one area, you must become proficient in many. Psychologists say there are generally two types of professionals: specialists and multipotentialites. The specialist dives deep into one subject their entire life. The multipotentialite, on the other hand, knows a little bit about many things and excels at connecting those dots. I’d put myself in that second group. I’m what you’d call a creative producer. I write lyrics, I perform, I understand stagecraft, and after 30 years, I’ve learned the marketing side too. I know how to build a show, how to finance it, and how to structure it. I can manage an exhibition, a musical, even a national campaign. What matters most is the ability to create something that resonates with people. The genre? That’s almost secondary, as long as I love it and it inspires me.
BBJ: What challenges did you face in the 2000s in Hungary’s music and media industry?
PG: As you age, you inevitably drift away from the trends. I made the mistake of trying to stay trendy. That didn’t work. I realized that what matters isn’t chasing trends but being authentic, true to yourself and your audience. In 2010, I launched Gringo Sztár, and the project was a mishmash of genres: electro, reggae, Balkan disco, you name it. I thought it would work. It didn’t. People didn’t know what to make of it. In hindsight, it was obvious: I had no focus. I wanted to play in every sandbox at once instead of choosing one and building something solid. It took me a few years to realign and find that focus again. Complicating things further was the fact that, due to cultural and political dynamics, I was effectively excluded from Hungarian public media. Not because of quality, because of politics. That made it harder to sustain my presence. But oddly, those restrictions only made me more determined to remain independent and relevant. I had to push harder, but it forced me to grow.
BBJ: Are there any systemic improvements you’d like to see?
PG: First, cut the VAT for musicians. Second, enforce real quotas on radio stations for Hungarian music, and make them meaningful. Third, protect our festival culture. Hungary has one of the most vibrant festival scenes in Europe, but with inflation and rising costs, many are struggling. If this continues, more artists will be forced to rely on state subsidies, and that creates dependency. I’d rather see state funds go to experimental or high-art projects, not mainstream pop. Let the market decide what lives or dies in the mainstream.
BBJ: What are you working on currently?
PG: Due to overwhelming demand, we’re doing two more shows of the “Geszti 60” concert, one at Budapest Park, which is already sold out, and another at the Strand Festival. Then, on Dec. 29, László Dés and I are doing a joint show at the MVM Dome called “The Concert of Our Lives,” marking 30 years of creative partnership. We’re also co-writing a musical, a grand-scale operatic production about Sándor Petőfi. Think slam poetry meets arias. It’s a massive, exciting new chapter.
This article was first published in the Budapest Business Journal print issue of May 5, 2025.